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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773303">Sneaky</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontshootmespence/pseuds/dontshootmespence'>dontshootmespence</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:47:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773303</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontshootmespence/pseuds/dontshootmespence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes being sneaky is half the fun.</p><p>Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sneaky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Buttery popcorn overtakes the bunker. It no longer smells of whiskey and regret. Not tonight. Tonight is movie night. Fuck that.</p><p>As Sam reaches into the microwave, his t-shirt rides up the slightest bit, showing you a peek at the underwear he’s wearing. “Oh, you brought out the good stuff today,” you giggle, placing a finger in his waistband. It’s his Saxx brand. They are expensive as hell so he only has the one pair and he refuses to wear it out. Out of the bunker at all. Even if he’s just going to grab food. It’s the lounging and sex underwear.</p><p>“Figured we’d be hanging around all day, I might as well.” He smirks as he places the third and final bag of popcorn into the microwave. While you wait, you snake your hand between his jeans and the boxers, palming his hardening cock over the soft material. More than anything, you want to get them off him and ride him until the cows come home.</p><p>But a promise is a promise. “We promised Dean we’d movie marathon today,” you say, sighing into his mouth as he kisses you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. “We can’t-”</p><p>“I know we did, but-” he says, nibbling on your bottom lip as the popcorn pops in the background.</p><p>You interrupt him, grasping his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “But nothing. Everything before the word ‘but’ is horseshit.”</p><p>As much as he wants you right now, he knows you’re right. After all Dean had been through lately, he deserved this much. “I don’t like it when you’re right.”</p><p>“I’m always right,” you laugh. “Now let’s get inside and get this marathon started before I jump your bones.”</p><p>                                                           ——</p><p>With three bowls of rich, buttery popcorn at the ready, and what is probably going to be the worst horror movie you’ve ever seen blasting on the speakers, you relax and try not to think about the fact that you’re sitting on Sam’s lap and his cock is right there and you could be riding him right now. It’s Dean’s day today. He’s lying on his back with his head toward the TV and away from you and Sam.</p><p>“You wanna chew a little louder,” Dean says matter-of-factly. Over the volume on the TV, there’s no way he can hear you. He’s just busting balls. But this is why Dean loves you; you can bust them right back.</p><p>Getting up from Sam’s lap, you sneak behind Dean and chew right in his ear for a second. “That’s for you.”</p><p>“You suck,” he laughs, watching as you return to Sam’s lap. “Don’t break my comfy chair or I’ll have to kill you.”</p><p>You imitate him, cozying into Sam again. “He’s annoying,” you whisper.</p><p>Sam mouths ‘I know’ before placing his finger in front of his lips. Under the blanket you’re sharing, he tugs your flannel pajama pants down just below your ass, slipping a finger between the lace and the warmth of your pussy.</p><p>For a moment, he teases you, slowly sliding his finger between your folds as you rub against him. God, he’s got great fingers. Long and rough and practiced. A nearly imperceptible whimper escapes you, but you manage to muffle it in Sam’s hair. You stay completely still as Sam unzips himself and pulls his rapidly hardening cock out. “Shh,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. “Don’t want to get Dean’s attention.”</p><p>“Going to be difficult,” you mouth, glancing down at his lap. “With you slipping your-” Your sentence gets cut off as he rubs the head of his cock, already slick with pre-cum, up and down your folds, tauntingly, like you have all the time and the privacy in the world.</p><p>Biting your lip, you bury your head in Sam’s neck and nip at his pulse point and up behind his ear. He steadies himself with his hand and slips into your soaking pussy, eyes blowing wide with lust as you squeeze around him. Slipping your tongue into his mouth and washing it over his own, you keep an eye on Dean. You’re both in for it if Dean catches you literally fucking in his chair.</p><p>Lights and loud noises - some slashing, some teenage screaming - can be heard from the TV, but you’re focusing solely on Sam as his fingers snake up the back of your neck and into your hair, tugging lightly as he thrusts upward as much as he can.</p><p>When your mouth drops open, he grins mischievously and pumps up into you again, practically willing Dean to turn around and watch. Sam bites down on your earlobe and growls, “Fuck my cock. I can see how badly you want it. Think you can keep quiet?”</p><p>You’ll damn well try. Wiggling your hips in figure eights, you run your thumb over his bottom lip, wetting it with his own saliva. Despite his promises to Dean, you can see the desire in his eyes; the all-out need to stand up, bend you over the couch and fuck you till you’re screaming. Maybe he’s the one who won’t be able to stay quiet.</p><p>His lips form the word ‘fuck’ when you grind against him. There’s no finesse whatsoever, but you’re too close to care. Reaching underneath you, you cup his balls and squeeze lightly as you tremble above him. Seconds later, he’s spilling into you, his hands grasping the handles of the armchair so hard his knuckles are white.</p><p>Sam’s eyes go wide as he un-tenses his muscles and pulls himself out of you. You can feel his cum inside you and Dean is right there. It makes you feel deliciously naughty.  </p><p>Apparently, Dean has to pee, and he can’t just go, he has to stand up and pause the movie. “As if you haven’t seen this 18,000 times,” you say.</p><p>When he turns to reply, there’s a hint of hesitation. “I have and now it’s 18,001.” He takes a step toward the door, looking back at you both as he grabs the door handle. “Don’t…don’t get up to anything while I’m gone. I’ll be right back.”</p><p>“What would we possibly get into, Dean?”</p><p>“You know.”</p><p>It takes everything in you not to spill your secret. “Wouldn’t think of it, Dean.”</p>
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